


Seventeen More City Blocks

by bookish_type



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/M, percabeth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 11:59:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookish_type/pseuds/bookish_type
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saving New York isn't as easy as it seems... at least when you're alone. Superhero Percabeth AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [All The Other Ghosts](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/25267) by Rainjoy. 



Because the city of New York needed it. That’s why.

Percy understood the risks, the terms, the conditions, the late nights, the guns, the peril, the hostages, the threats.

And still he did it.

Because the city was his family. As ridiculous as that sounded to other people, this was his home, the people here his friends (the non-criminals, at least). As long as he had his abilities, he was going to keep saving them, simple as that.

 

 

 

She didn’t quite know why she kept doing it.

Sure, she loved the city. The city is why she kept saving it, of course, but the corruption and crime were a serious downfall. She didn’t love the city to a fault like he did, but she loved the life, the lights, the glory of New York. The feel that you could do anything when standing over the city, staring into the radiance.

Annabeth did it for herself.

The late nights, the pride, the exhaustion at the end was what made it worth it, in the end.

And she wasn’t sure what would keep her together otherwise.

 

 

 

Sure, supers in the city were normal by now, but not normal enough to make police commissioners not out to get you, not enough to make idiots stop breaking the law, not enough to make passersby not take out their iPhones to snap a picture of the illustrious Hudor. Saving the city was hard enough without people trying to pull off your mask to see your face.

Which is why, as he rode a wave down the both darkened and lightened 5th Avenue, he pulled his mask a little bit further down to hide his cheekbones and readjusted his skintight suit over his neck to hide that god-awful scar. It would be easy to recognize him, if it came to it, and no faux low growl of a voice or sunglasses sewn into his suit could hide it.

His costume certainly helped, of course, masking his body shape to something broader and stronger than he normally was (a tall, limber, and scrawny-looking kid). Sure, he had muscle here and there, but he was almost the opposite of bulky. Y’know, for a superhero.

 He skimmed the top of his water as he came to a stop, stumbling on the pavement as he started to walk on solid ground. Hudor checked his watch, and seeing the hands tick towards 3 AM, sighed. Work tomorrow would _suck_.

He summoned his water again, and willing it to make a pathway for him in the sky, rode the water into the sky. The sky was dark, starless from the city lights below him. As he glided on the waves, swirling and disappearing behind him, Hudor searched the ground for people, the dark roads and alleys for knives or guns or just _people_.

 

 

 

He was huge, a towering guy over six feet tall, clenching his hand into a fist and yelling, yelling “fucks” and “mine” over and over, a woman with streaming mascara slammed, trapped against the brick wall with a large hand.

A shadow crept up behind the man, and it reached for the arm currently curled back, twisting his wrist up and pushing up on the elbow, and with a _pop_ , his arm dislocated. The man gasped with a shriek, collapsed on the ground onto his arm, and the lights disappeared temporarily from his eyes.

The woman gasped, crumpling to the ragged concrete below, sobs echoing throughout the alley, the shadow approaching her.

“Are you okay?” the shadow asked, sitting cross-legged next to the woman, whose thick black hair hung around her hands covering her face. The shadow wrapped its arm around the woman, pulling her into its chest as she cried.

It was eerily quiet, save for cars passing on other streets, rare light except for the few blinking from apartments ahead. A man on the ground, a woman crying, a shadow comforting. It would be unusual in another place, another time, another universe, but definitely not New York City.

“Is- is he okay?” the woman asked the shadow through her heaves.

It was some sort of irony, the shadow thought, how it was not vengeance or revenge they sought, but them being “okay.”

“Yes,” the shadow said, sighing lightly. “What’s important is if _you’re_ okay. Do you have a cab or a car or someone to take you home? Do you have somewhere to sleep tonight, away from him?”

The woman sniffed, wiping her nose on the back of her manicured hand. “I can take a cab to my place.”

“What’s your name?”  the shadow asked, withdrawing its arm from around the woman and looking at her.

“Helen. Um, Helen Grace,” the woman said, wiping the dark smears under her eyes with her fingers, her bright blue eyes watering still. “And I suppose you’re Nous?”

“Mmhm,” the shadow confirmed, offering small sort of smile at the other woman. “Helen, can I borrow your phone to call the police?”

Helen silently handed over her uncovered iPhone to the masked woman, who swiped and asked, “Password?”

“It’s _staple_. All lowercase.”

“Thanks,” Nous said, quickly tapping out the sequence with her gloves and it _clicked_ as it let her in. She dialed a quick 911 and held up the phone to her ear. “Hello, there’s a passed out guy here with a dislocated arm, he was going at-“

Helen sighed, digging through her purse for at least a tissue, sorting through lip gloss and receipts, not really listening to Nous. It wasn’t every day that you met one of New York’s finest, but not really every day that you needed to. Stan wasn’t a bad guy, she thought, but not that it really mattered. She wasn’t going to get together with him again, she decided. Never. Not with someone who held your wrists together above you and gave you deep bruises on your cheeks with those knuckles, those knuckles that lay now on the ground, unmoving and disabled.

Nous hung up with another _click_ and handed the phone back to Helen. “Thanks. They’re on their way. I’ll walk with you to get a cab, if you’re ready.”

Helen nodded, slinging her purse over her shoulder, bracing her hands against the ground and pushing herself up off the dirty concrete. She held out a hand for Nous, who shook her head and jumped to her feet. Tall and thin, with a blonde bun at her neck, clothed in a skintight grey suit with a belt around the middle with tiny pouches of god-knows-what, Nous walked ahead of the woman out onto a street, hailing a taxi in record time.

“Take care of yourself, alright?” Nous said, opening the door for Helen, who nodded, sliding in the cab and closing it.

“Where to, lady?” the driver barked at her, but she was preoccupied with watching Nous walk away, boots hitting the pavement, her suit a matte grey as she walked against the bright lights of open-late Chinese take-out places, giving a slight wave back at Helen. Her long legs turned a corner and Nous disappeared from sight, blue and red flashing in her wake.

 

 

 

Percy yawned, stripping off the last of his suit, feet damp as he stepped onto his cold apartment floor in bare feet. He reached for his phone, sent a quick _Love you, see you tomorrow_ to his mom, slipped on a pair of boxers, and curled under the blankets, falling asleep in seconds. His alarm clock went off at six- two hours of sleep would be enough, right?


	2. Firsts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meetings are are not quite as expected (or, not really expected at all).

            _“Cyclops on Third, backup needed_ -“

            A swish sounded from the top of a building, and a wave of water appeared and vanished with a dark blur gliding right at the crest.

 

 

            Annabeth _hated_ work.

            At one time, she’d enjoyed the idea of designing buildings, creating landmarks, and showing other people how amazing architecture could be, but she realized that the reality was really just painting trees for the boss’s model skyscraper.

            Her agency was huge- she’d interned there as well, and somehow she’d shown “promising” work (some nice painting, then) and she’d been employed as well. But the people were okay, it paid well, and she was in the middle of the city- the middle of action.

 

 

            Hudor slid on the water, skating through a wave as it disappeared behind him above the city. He saw the problem quickly: a monster, huge, at least nine feet tall, towering over cars and trees and running people. The creature was tearing things apart, tossing a Jeep fifteen feet in the air where it crumpled on the pavement in a burst of flames. And its primary feature? A single eye in the middle of its face.

            Hudor shifted the water to glide him over the monster, staring down at it. _What’s the best way to take out this guy?_

_Weakening and then a lot of water- to knock him out._

            That was okay. A lot of water Hudor could do.

 

 

            She glanced at her watch, willing time to go faster than the second hand showed, half past four. Annabeth groaned and slumped her head on the mahogany desk, her blonde hair fanning out over her keyboard and sketches. Her eyes nearly closed from exhaustion- she’d been out late patrolling the city. A nasty gang fight and a back alley crook left her about three hours of sleep.

            “You okay there, Annabelle?” A harsh bark of a Jersey accent snapped her back to the present. Damn- her boss had caught her in a not completely awake state.

            Her head shot up instantly. “Yes, sir, Mr. D. Just finishing up that spreadsheet you had me working on.”

            “Good, good. I have a feeling I should also give you a heads up about a Cyclops right outside the building. I’m reasonably sure that we’ll be somewhat unharmed, but just in case-“

            “What?!” Annabeth exclaimed. Mr. D. had a bored look on his face, monotonous above his awful leopard print shirt, a Diet Coke in hand. He played with a loose string on his sleeve nonchalantly. “A Cyclops? Oh my Gods–”

            Annabeth instantly took on her office persona whenever things like this popped up- the anxious and delicate blonde. It’s not like her fellow employees would expect the whole Nous thing when she got panic attacks at the mention of monsters like hellhounds and telekhines.

            “Annie, Annie, don’t worry. It’s not like anything has ever _actually_ happened to the building before,” Mr. D. told her as she took the opportunity to start fast, shallow breathing. “I suppose the best thing would be to get on the first floor so if the top of the place comes down, you can run fastest.”

            Annabeth gave him a look through her flushed face. He would be the _least_ helpful person to have in a real panic attack. But she took the moment and grabbed her bag, and shoved her boss aside to run to the bathroom to do a quick change.

 

 

            He skated around the monster, twirling through the air and running on the water, taking his sword (yes, he was a bit old-fashioned, but his fencing lessons actually paid off this way) and slashing cuts around the Cyclops’ ugly, blistering, greenish skin. Blood spattered out as he narrowly missed the monster’s wilding grabbing arms gash after gash. Spectators screamed as the Cyclops stumbled around the street, howling in pain, making the earth rumble beneath him.

            Finally Hudor willed his water to bring him around to the huge, awful face of the creature, and with a movement so fast so the monster couldn’t sweep him out of the air, he dug the sword straight into the huge single eye in the middle of its face.

            A woman in skintight dark gray- Nous, he remembered her name from the news- tore through the crowd and up to the monster at that exact moment, and taking a rope from her belt, walked calmly around the monster, still shell-shocked with pain, leaving the end on the ground. Nous walked around the monster’s feet, looking small and invulnerable and _damn_ , she was really attractive (Percy shook his head, quickly clearing the thought out of his mind. He really hated his no dating rule sometimes.) as she came to a full circle and picked the rope back up. _This wouldn’t work_ , Hudor thought. _The monster was too strong, too fast, too revengeful-_

            She gave a strong, quick pull of the rope, and the huge Cyclops fell to the pavement with a shock that made the buildings shake around them.

            The chaos in the resulting shock was immense, and amidst all the screaming and panic, Hudor managed only to catch a glimpse of the gray suit, dashing through the crowd.

            Hudor’s eyebrows rose. Even though they were the most well known supers in the city, they’d never actually met or spoken. He’d never even seen her in person. But she walked with a slink, as though at any time she could slip back in into the shadows- but she also had a confidence about her, and Hudor knew he would never want to cross her path. She was simple, she was strong, she had a plan- that as much was obvious.

            Before she disappeared off into the city, he quickly pulled himself together and skated a stream of water down to where she was running away from the scene. He ran next to her, matching her pace. She started with a sharp breath.

            “Nice one,” he said. He only wanted to meet her. Just at least get to know his fellow super (at least on the outside).

            Nous raised her eyebrows, the part of her face he could see beyond the mask. She had beautiful intelligent gray eyes and her frizzy blonde hair was pulled back into a messy bun. “Thanks. Nice set up.”

            He gave her a quick grin as they still ran from the ambulances and fire trucks quickly crowding the scene. She grabbed his wrist, and he gave her a surprised look. “Follow me.”

            He started slightly, staring at her hand around his wrist.

            What was she even doing? She was bound to get them caught or hurt. He knew she’d been doing this for longer than he had, but it didn’t matter- did she work for someone? Could she even be trustworthy?

            But Hudor obliged cautiously, sprinting with his wrist caught in her fingers. “What the hell-“

            She turned into an alley, twisting and turning a few times down more less populated streets, finally reaching a coffee shop with a little arch around the top advertising an “ambrosia shot,” whatever that was. The lights were on and the glow illuminated the quickly darkening street- Hudor could see the orange sun setting.

            Nous tugged him further back, reaching a small door- the back entrance to the shop, he guessed. She let his wrist free and rapped her knuckles against the door in a pattern. “Pan?” came a voice through the door.

            “Shout,” she replied quickly in a smooth voice. The door swung open into a small kitchen filled with the scent of espresso.

 

 

            Okay, this was probably a bad idea.

            Hell, it was probably a _horrible_ idea.

            But nevertheless, here she was, sitting with New York City’s famous waterworks in the back of a coffee shop as the outside lights dimmed, sipping a café au lait. He’d wanted to try the extra shot of ambrosia. Whatever.

            Grover had given them the small back room, furnished with two squishy armchairs and a tiny table in between. The tiny windows had curtains and the single source of light was a floor lamp stretching beside her chair, illuminating her face and his.

            “Come here often?” he asked, grinning, setting his coffee down. He was handsome, she noted. Cheekbones and eyes the exact color of the sea (coincidence?) with a smile that just prodded her to grin along. And that _ass_. (Not like she was going to mention it, obviously.) She just wished the mask could come off and she could see _him_.

            She shook her head, laughing. “Actually, yeah. I once got the owner’s girlfriend out of a tight spot outside a club. She said to stop around whenever. Free coffee and actual privacy. It’s the dream, really, and the owner is really, really nice,” Nous said, sipping more of her coffee. “He’s been pushing me to bring a friend. And I just kind of…” she trailed off, cocking her head.  “Wanted to get to know you better? I haven’t actually met very many other supers before.”

            Hudor crossed his legs in his armchair, looking like a slightly overgrown child. “Me neither. I haven’t been doing this long, but it’s weird. Lonelier than I thought before.”

            Nous nodded in sympathy. “It’s rarely actually saving the world. Mostly just sitting with drunk people, waiting for their ride.”

            Hudor laughed. “Not so glamorous as some might think.”

            “I wish it was all cool gadgets and amazing stunts,” she said, taking another drink. “So much more emotion than I ever thought would be needed.”

            They slipped fast into their conversation, sharing and conversing because before now? Nous hadn’t ever had another soul to speak to this about. It was friendless, it was isolating, and it left you worn and feeling tired and older.

            “You have a foam mustache.” Hudor tapped above his mouth.

            Her hand shot to her lips, mortified as she wiped it off. Very smooth. “Jesus Christ, thanks. I’m normally more civilized when I drink… things.” _Slick._

            Hudor laughed loudly, grinning at her with that infectious smile. “It’s okay. It’s cute.”

            Her head shot up, hysteria making her head buzz and that all too familiar weight settling on her chest. Their eyes met, and he was still smiling. He still hadn’t noticed anything, naïve and animated from his coffee.

            “Wait-“ he said, confusion clear. “Was that okay? I’m sorry, did I cross a line?” Alarm showed in his eyes. “Nous, I’m sorry, what’s happening, are you okay?”

            She felt panic in her stomach, and her breathing sped up. The walls of the tiny back room started cracking, and as seams ran up the walls, and it darkened into the midnight alley her dreams showed her all too often. She tried whispering to herself, _You’re fine, you’re fine, just leave, get out of here, fresh air_ but her breathing wasn’t slowing down.

            “No, no, you’re fine…” She shook herself, trying to bring her mind back to this room, this coffee shop, where things were all right and okay. She counted her breaths, closing her eyes to try to push away the panic attack.

  _Cute_. Something she’d been called once before. Well… that among others. Nous shivered. Every time she repeated it, her head transformed it exactly how it’d been heard that night.

“I need to go, it’s late.” She rushed to check her phone. “One fifteen, and I missed patrol tonight.”

            Hudor’s eyebrows frowned and his eyes clouded with concern. “Wait, Nous, are you sure? I didn’t mean to say anything, I promise, please tell me what’s happening-“

            She was too quick to answer as she stood, tucking her phone back into her belt. “I’m fine, I’m great, I just need-“

            He got up, a confused look still on his face and he tried to put a hand on her shoulder, which she dodged quickly, walking backwards to the door. “I really am sorry, I realize I pushed-“

            “No, no, you’re fine, you’re okay-“ she said as a farewell, tears in her eyes, dashing out of the small room, leaving him standing there with a baffled look on his masked face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my godddd, i am so sorry this is so late! i've been doing band things and getting ready for school to start back up and a g h, i am sorry! anyways, i hope you like this chapter, i promise the next one will be up in a more... timely fashion (;  
> as always, thanks to combustspontanteously to reading this over and thanks to Rainjoy on LJ's fic, "All The Other Ghosts" for inspiring this one. if you like klaine (or even if you don't) it's one of my favorite fics of all time.  
> thank you so much for reading and if you liked it or didn't like it, please let me know. thanks again. c:

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys, new story! it's superhero au, if you hadn't caught on, and it's a LOT of fun writing it. it's heavily inspired by rainjoy on lj's klaine superhero fic, which everyone should read even if you haven't seen glee. the title's stolen from 'four-color love story' by the metasciences, the perfect superhero love anthem.
> 
> i should be updating fairly soon, i'm in atlanta, georgia at the moment for a dci show, and i will definitely be writing on the long way home. anyways, i really hope you guys will like this, i'm so pumped for the rest of this! thanks so much for reading and i'd love it if you gave me some feedback. thanks again! 3 xx


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